


The Fall

by kitkat_hryn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat_hryn/pseuds/kitkat_hryn
Summary: Oikawa Tooru has a soulmate. At least he think he does. He did at one point, but now, it's been 13 years since their last connection. He's found himself trying to move on, trying to get a new source of happiness rather than wait for something he doesn't even know is out there. He still wishes though.Iwaoi soulmate au where pairs are linked by the five senses - sound, taste, smell, sight, touch.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

Oikawa Tooru was a hopeless romantic. The fact itself was no surprise - anyone could tell by the way he spoke about fate and destiny - but compared to the rest of his family, his methods were considered a bit… unconventional. 

He knew he was straying from the typical path. He understood that most people would avoid what he was doing now. In a world of soulmates, it wasn’t exactly easy to explain why you were dating someone who wasn’t paired to your very existence. And being descended from a line of great romances, Oikawa was quite aware it wasn't any better to bring your “not at all soulmate material” boyfriend home to visit. 

But he was happy. All in all, he could look at himself and see that he was in love, he was enjoying life, and he was at his highest peak. 

That didn’t mean he never wondered. Occasionally, when his mind couldn’t be distracted from wandering thoughts, Oikawa would think about _him._ His soulmate. The one person in the entire world that was supposed to be his, perfectly paired to his traits. Someone that would bring out the best of him, someone who had been tied to him through an invisible force. His fated match. His future. 

When he had first been taught about the bond, his hopes were through the roof. He had grown up surrounded by romcom-worthy relationships, listening to stories about what first meetings were like and the sensation of being attached to someone. Oikawa was expecting it to be easy. He was so certain that he would meet his soulmate young like his siblings and aunts and uncles and parents did, and then fall happily for them without a care in the world. By the time he was 9, he had already planned out most of his wedding.

He knew now that it could never be that simple. 

He did have a soulmate. In his early teenage years, he had even felt the connection open up between them. But then **that** happened, and suddenly the few glances he had gotten into his partner’s life were over. It had been 13 years since then. 13 years without the link. 13 years without the familiar tingle up his spine. 13 years without the familiar smell of baked bread on Saturday mornings and the warm hugs and the glimpses of bright blue sky at mountaintops. 

At this point, Oikawa wasn’t even sure if they were alive. The pain he had felt during their last connection was enough to justify that assumption, yet he still couldn’t find it in himself to believe it. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t possibly think that his soulmate was gone. 

So when he did bring his boyfriend home during Christmas dinners and birthday celebrations, he ignored the pitying stares directed his way. He overlooked the whispers about “broken bonds” and “lost soulmates”. He forced a smile on his face to show the world that he could still be happy without a fated match, that he could still be himself. Oikawa Tooru was a hopeless romantic through and through, and all that mattered to him was that he wasn’t alone.

Even if he felt like he was. 

_______________

“If you don’t get your ass out of bed, I’m seriously going to tell Suga to fire you.”

“You can’t do that. You don’t even work there.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve known him longer, he trusts my judgement.”

“Kuroo, you’re full of shit and you know it.”

A sudden chill crept over Oikawa’s body as his roommate pulled the covers off his bed. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes to the enormous man in front of him.

“I may be full of shit but I’m not the one who’s going to be late for work.” A heavy grin stretched across his face as he flashed his lockscreen to Oikawa. “Your shift starts at ten. Get up.”

9:45. 15 minutes. “Oh fuck. Fuck! God fucking dammit!” In a matter of seconds, the tall brunette was on his feet, scrambling to his dresser to grab the first pair of clothes he saw. He shot a pointed glare to his cackling friend as he pulled out red and blue plaid shorts, slipping them over his boxers. “Not a word you… you heathen.”

That only made Kuroo laugh harder, leaning on the doorframe to support himself. To Oikawa’s glee, it only took one particularly hard shove to get him to shut up, rushing past him and out of the apartment.

Thankfully, the cafe wasn’t far away. It was actually halfway between his university campus and his shared flat, so if need be, he could sprint to the building in seven minutes and 32 seconds (Kuroo and Suga had timed him once). The cold air bristled over his cheeks, flushing them pink as he ran. A familiar twinge of pain shot through his knee, but the adrenaline from his panic helped him ignore it. It really was a miracle that he hadn’t been fired yet. Running late was a usual occurrence for him, especially on the weekend shifts where he had to be up before noon. His job never let him get his beauty sleep, but it paid well, and he was lucky enough to find some good friends through the position. 

One of these friends, Sugawara Koushi, was waiting for him at the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Suga had been promoted to assistant manager not too long ago, despite him being newer than Oikawa to the job. There were no hard feelings of course, it was obvious why the silver-haired man was suited for the job. His compassion and attention to detail left the store in good hands. He was the perfect face for the shop, a bright, gentle, good-looking man who could handle even the most difficult of customers in minutes. 

Handling his consistently late employee was another matter entirely.

A subtle _tsk_ came from his lips as he frowned, “Oikawa, you know, after all this time, it’s a wonder that you never seem to change. You’d think that having your job on the line would be a sign, but apparently for someone like you, that isn’t the case.”

“So mean, Suga… can’t you be a little nicer to your best friend?”

“Can’t you be more responsible for your boss?” 

The brunette stuck his tongue out stubbornly, walking behind the counter and grabbing his apron. The store was empty for the most part, only a few college students sat at the tables outside with a handful milling around the booths. It wasn’t uncommon to have slower weekend shifts, especially in the mornings. Most individuals only visited in the afternoon or at night for study groups or cramming. On Saturday mornings, all anyone ever wanted to do was be in bed. Oikawa envied them. 

He bumped shoulders in greeting with Kenma, a shorter boy who also happened to be dating his _absolutely wonderful and perfect_ roommate. 

“Did you eat, Tooru? Suga told me to make you a plate just in case. It’s on the counter in the staff room.”

Suga’s protests could be heard, squawking about how “it was supposed to be a secret, Kenma! I’m supposed to be mad at him!” only to be met with Kenma’s quiet “why should I have known that? If you were really upset you would have locked him outside or something, it’s not my fault.”

Oikawa laughed and hugged Suga in silent thanks, telling him he'd really try to make it up to him soon. He only received a pout in response, but he knew he’d be forgiven soon enough. Though he already suspected he was.

The familiar bell on the door snapped his attention away, signaling someone’s entrance. Oikawa was pushed off Suga’s shoulders, to no surprise of course, once he realized it was Daichi. 

He had to mentally chide himself for pouting. It’s not as if he disliked the two, in fact he really loved them both, but something about their relationship put him on edge. To be honest, it wasn’t just “something”. He knew the exact reason that he always found himself frowning around them. It wasn’t like he could lie to himself about it. Daichi and Suga were soulmates. They had had a perfectly awkward and romantic first meeting in highschool, then started dating soon after. They were wonderful.

It wasn’t any different than Kenma and Kuroo’s relationship, and yet, it was. Kenma and Kuroo had known each other since they were kids. They were close even before their bond was open. It was rare to see such a connection, rare to ever watch fate play out so easily. It was as if they were simply made for each other. 

But Suga and Daichi had a completely normal story. Sure, it was heartwarming and lovable, but it was like most other meetings. It was the story that Oikawa wanted, but never got. 

He wanted something normal, something that he knew was right without ever doubting it. He wanted the chance to belong to something that was stronger than physical touches. And he had tried so hard to find it. 

When Oikawa first told his friends that he was going to stop waiting for _him_ , they had been shocked. Suga had even dropped a mug of scalding hot coffee for Christ's sake. It wasn’t exactly an expected development. He knew it was sudden. He knew it was rash and irresponsible but he wanted so desperately to be held. Oikawa wanted to be loved. He didn’t want to wait with nothing out there to give him hope. 

So he tried to stop lamenting the bonds his friends had found and went out on his own. And it worked, for the most part. 

He still sulked when he watched Daichi pull Suga in for a kiss over the counter. He still winced when he walked into the living room and saw Kenma wrapped in Kuroo’s arms. But he still had someone by his side, so he could at least pretend to be content. 

Oikawa was so trapped in his thoughts that, at first, he didn’t even register the man standing at Daichi’s side. When he did, he couldn’t even remember why he was sulking.

He was tall. So very tall. Maybe a hair shorter than Oikawa, but that still didn’t mean he was anywhere near being short. And god, _those arms_. In the back of his head, he wondered what it would be like to run his hands up them, gently pushing his fingers into the tight muscle. Broad shoulders stretched against a bomber-style jacket. Short hair framed his features, spiking up in a neat manner. He watched the large pair of hands fidget nervously at the man’s side before being pushed into pockets. 

A blush almost crept up Oikawa’s cheeks when their eyes met, but he forced it down with thoughts of his mother and innocent, non-sensual reminders of his homework. 

“Um… everyone,” Daichi looked at the three employees before waving a hand to his company, “this is Iwaizumi Hajime. He’s in my business course for this semester. Iwaizumi, this is… well… everyone.” 

Suga had to bite his tongue to quiet down his laughter. 

“You know, Daichi, you’re awful at introductions.” Oikawa kept his gaze playful, the words teasing on his lips. He stretched his hand over the counter to the new face and practically sang, “Hello Iwaizumi-san. I’m Oikawa.”

As their fingers brushed together before being grasped in a firm handshake, Oikawa could have sworn he felt something like a shock run through his spine. He caught the smell of baked bread, so familiar, yet so minuscule that he didn’t even think twice about it. 

He couldn’t stop smiling.

____________________________________________________________

Iwaizumi's first connection opened when he was 10 years old. It was a mind-blowing mess of smells and sounds and there were hands running across his arms, pure thrills of happiness coursing through his veins. 

It was exactly like how his mother described it. A soulmate’s bond is opened at their highest peak of emotion. It can be born of anger or sorrow or fear, but luckily, his link was born from cheerfulness. It was his partner who opened it. Something had happened, something so wonderful that it was enough to create the connection. And Iwaizumi felt all of it.

He could smell the grass first. He almost thought nothing of it until he realized that he was inside his room, three stories above the ground floor. It smelt like a fresh cut lawn, mixed in with hints of barbeque. He could taste the smoke on his tongue. There was the sound of laughter and cheering, names being called out. His vision blacked out to another scene, someplace that was far, far away from him. He saw glimpses of a volleyball net, a group of people standing around tables and chairs and a makeshift court in someone’s backyard. Someone was picking him up, swinging him around, placing him on their shoulders and parading him in front of the others. He felt the breeze on his face, the strong hands on his legs. 

It was the happiest he had ever been, and it wasn’t even his moment. It was his soulmate who was experiencing it. It was his soulmate who was elated enough to create the link, to reach out and grasp at Iwaizumi without ever letting go of his spirit. It was enough to bind them forever in unspoken words. 

Back then, he wasn’t scared. He was ready to welcome it with open arms. He was innocent and young and the world seemed so big.

After their connection ended, he asked his mom if he could join the volleyball club.

Life was simple then. It was easy.

___________________

Their bond faded as he got older. Things happened. Things changed. Most of all, he changed. What was supposed to be an unbreakable knot slowly loosened, letting the strength of their link fade away with time. It wasn’t enough to just feel emotions at their highest point, one had to be willing to share them. Iwaizumi never was.  
When he was 17, he realized the extent of what he had done. He had never intended to cut ties, to cut his partner off, but he never truly understood the consequences for what he was doing.

He remembers it vividly. At that point, it had been nearly 6 years since he began to distance himself, and the connection had only opened up a handful of times. Iwaizumi caught faint smells of cake when he walked to school, heard the occasional stadium cheer as he was doing homework, but it was nothing like what they once had. He had never been able to feel the true link after what happened. There were only remnants of moments, soon forgotten in the past.

But that night couldn’t be erased. 

Iwaizumi liked to believe he understood his emotions well. It was how he kept them inside, how he stopped them from binding him to the stranger that was supposed to be his soulmate. Yet even so, during that night, he felt a new kind of fear.

It had been late, past midnight, when he got home from work. His family was asleep upstairs, the house left silent. He was alone. But as soon as he placed a foot inside the living room, he heard the music. 

_Pass me that lovely little gun_

_My dear, my darling one_

He was frozen in place. His hands were shaking at his sides, pupils blown wide as he let the feelings wash over him. It was a slow song, full of sombering chords that rattled him to the core.

_They are knocking now upon your door_

_They measure the room, they know the score_

_They're mopping up the butcher's floor_

_Of your broken little hearts_

Someone was singing along in his ear. Their voice was deep and rough, lips pressing against his skin as their mouth moved. Hands, gentle yet firm, ran down his sides before pulling him into a soft sway. 

_O children_

_Lift up your voice, lift up your voice_

_Children_

_Rejoice, rejoice_

Iwaizumi could smell the heavy cologne, the faint reminiscents of sweat. The person’s hair brushed against his neck as kisses trailed down to his shoulder. Every nerve on his skin was on fire, the pit of his stomach burning with something he had no words for. His brain was screaming at the intrusion, thoughts telling him over that _this wasn’t something he was supposed to be seeing, he shouldn’t be here._

_We have the answer to all your fears_

_It's short, it's simple, it's crystal clear_

_It's round about and it's somewhere here_

_Lost amongst our winnings_

Another voice joined in, and though he wasn’t sure how, he could tell it was his soulmate’s. One hand pressed into the small of his back and another held his own as they danced, glimpses of a dark room and moonlight and bare skin flashing through Iwaizumi’s vision. 

_Hey, little train! Wait for me!_

_I once was blind but now I see_

_Have you left a seat for me?_

_Is that such a stretch of the imagination?_

He could feel the touches get braver, the voices get hushed as they shared whispers in the night. It wasn’t a moment meant for him. He was never supposed to share this memory, never supposed to witness something so vulnerable. The song was louder now, the hands desperate and wanting. Iwaizumi wanted to throw up. He wanted to rid himself of these feelings, banish them from his mind as if they never existed in the first place.

Because for the first time, Iwaizumi’s soulmate wasn’t choosing him.

He had been rejecting their bond for years, but he had still been able to feel snippets of the sadness that came with it. He felt his pair’s longing and his sorrow and his anger. He had known they existed. But now, his partner, somewhere out in the world, somewhere away from him, was letting go. 

_Hey little train! Wait for me!_

_I was held in chains but now I'm free_

_I'm hanging in there, don't you see_

_In this process of elimination_

Sobs ran down his face. He collapsed on the floor. Iwaizumi was still being touched, the foreign pair of hands that should have been his pressing against _his_ soulmate. He could feel everything through the bond. Every touch of skin on skin, the smell of sweat and heat, the sound of hushed voices and groans, the taste of another person on his lips, the sight of loving smiles and tousled hair and crumpled bed sheets. 

Iwaizumi threw up everything in his stomach that night. He cried until his eyes were dry and his throat was too sore to speak. He let himself go, trying desperately to get rid of the emotions that had been forced onto him. He didn’t want this sense of contentment, this idea of satisfaction. He never asked to fall asleep with the feeling of being held. 

Connections weren’t always a good thing. They weren’t always a blessing. They weren’t always wanted. 

But in this moment, no matter how much he had denied it, Iwaizumi was forced to accept that he had one. He had a bond. 

A bond with someone who didn’t want him. 

___________________

“Ah~ better watch out for that one, Iwaizumi.” Suga crooned over the counter, chin resting on his palm as he eyed the handshake, “he’s a total maneater.”

The brunette in front of him squawked and reached over to slug the other in the arm. His whiny voice protested the accusation, flush crawling up his neck.

He definitely wasn’t unattractive. Long brown hair came down in perfectly styled strands, framing his head like a crown. His large eyes had peeked out bashfully from underneath as they shook hands, but now, he could see the life behind them. Oikawa was loud and brash without a care in the world. Iwaizumi laughed at the display.

“I promise you, I am no such thing.” He smirked confidently and flicked his annoyingly perfect bangs out of his gaze.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I wouldn’t. If he wasn’t already in a relationship, he’d be all over a handsome guy like you.” The silver-haired manager had a mischievous glint in his eyes, sending a knowing smirk over at Iwaizumi’s blush, though he chose not to comment.

“Can you blame me? Look at him!” Oikawa waved his arms absentmindedly in his direction before realizing what he said. He clamped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment and slid down the cabinet to sit on the floor. “I didn’t mean to say that. Oh my god.”

Suga was cackling next to him, smacking his palm against the countertop. Even Kenma was snickering from nearby. Daichi’s boisterous laugh was hidden behind a fist, trying desperately not to make the situation worse.

All Iwaizumi could do was watch and blush madly like an idiot. He had been hoping to make some new acquaintances after his transfer, and thankfully Daichi had been kind enough to introduce him to some friends. The past year hadn’t been exactly easy for him, so he had been looking for a fresh start. 

Seeing the blushing and mortified man crouched on the floor was definitely an interesting way to start over. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.” Daichi patted him on the back and stood up straight. “Iwaizumi is from the north campus, he transferred over winter break. I hope you guys treat him well.”

“Oikawa sure will…” Suga was a mess of giggles, hanging his head low to try and compose himself. 

“Suga!” 

“What? You will!”

“Shut up! Please! Can’t you see I’ve already been mortally wounded here?!” Oikawa gestured to the ground around him, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Oh poor little Tooru… if only your knight in shining armor came to rescue your bruised ego.” Suga shot a teasing wink to Iwaizumi, “now get up, we need to actually work.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. His hand came up to run through his hair, still tingling from the earlier handshake. It felt like his nerves had been fried. He was entirely too nervous, too flustered. Mentally, he cursed himself for acting childish. Physically, however, he couldn’t help the words spewing from his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t mind coming to rescue you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone didn't know, the song lyrics I put in are from O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my writing gets a lot better in this chapter, it wasn't great in the beginning

“I just can’t understand it, if the universe really wanted me to eat healthily, they wouldn’t make bad food taste so good!” 

“Bokuto, are you forgetting the fact that you’re literally a professional athlete?”

The owl-like man blinked at Oikawa from the kitchen, carrying four bags of unpopped microwave popcorn to the microwave. 

“But doesn’t that just mean he’ll burn it off instantly?” Kuroo piped up from his spot on the couch, looking over his phone to take in the scene. “He runs around so much during practice that it shouldn’t matter.” 

“That doesn’t make it better for him, that just means the only energy he’s getting is from a disgusting amount of sodium and saturated fats. Think of the grease, man.” 

He sighed as he watched Bokuto try to arrange the bags inside. With a gentle shove, Oikawa nudged him away from the microwave, scolding him about how “you have to do one at a time, they won’t all fit” despite the sulk he received in response. 

“Oh. Speaking of practice,” Akaashi piped softly up from the loveseat, eyes looking over the rim of his glasses, “did you tell him about the new team member?”

“Ah, right right right. We got a new middle blocker! He’s so short though, maybe like to here-” Bokuto measured his hand at his hip, “but he’s this wicked ball of energy. I don’t think he got even a little bit tired during the scrimmages. He even stayed after, I mean he must have been playing for six hours without a break it was-”

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi had never needed a lot of words to handle his soulmate. “I meant him and Kageyama.”

Oikawa looked between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure how to react, so he settled on taking a neutral expression. “Kageyama? What about him?”

“Oh he didn’t tell you? I thought for sure he would mention it. He stayed late on Tuesday to help Hinata, that’s the new kid’s name, with practice. They were together for a while.” Bokuto wasn’t looking at him as he said it. His eyes were transfixed on the popcorn bag rotating behind the glass door. 

His mind thought back to earlier that week, getting a message from his boyfriend that he _wouldn’t be able to go out to study with him, something important came up, sorry Oikawa for the late notice_. 

He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Kuroo sat up straight as he spoke, “don’t think too much about it.”

He knew his jealousy streaks were infamous. He knew that he tended to… overreact… to things a lot. But that didn’t mean he wanted his friends to walk on eggshells around him. And that certainly didn’t mean he wanted his boyfriend of three years to avoid telling him things. 

Oikawa and Kageyama had met through a training camp in his last year of highschool. He was two years younger, with baby fat still evident in his cheeks, and everything about his personality pissed Oikawa off to no end. Most days ended with him coming home seething. He wanted to crush the cocky setter into the ground. 

And then Kageyama found him at one of his lowest points.

Crying in the locker room, torn up over the bond that was slowly fading away, the bond that he was clinging to as if he had nothing else. Sobbing over the injury that would never go away, would never let him play the same again. Kageyama had watched as he ripped himself to shreds and welcomed him with open arms. He had taken him to his empty house and held him without judgment. He was annoying and stubborn but he was selfless when it mattered. 

Kageyama had a soulmate though. He had a pair who hadn’t cut him off for over a decade. He had frequent connections, and even though he insisted that nothing was going to change their relationship, Oikawa always knew that it would end someday. 

That didn’t make it any easier to accept. 

“I know. He’s probably trying to get his unnatural skills calibrated to a new player. I swear he’s a robot.” Oikawa forced out a chuckle and grabbed a bag of popcorn for himself. He ignored the look that Akaashi shot Kuroo. He ignored the slight shake of Kuroo’s head in silent communication. 

“Maybe he’s an alien,” Bokuto peeked over, “that would explain why you’re attracted to him.”

“What the fuck? What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you like space and stuff. So you like aliens. And you like him. I think it makes sense.”

“Oh. I can totally imagine Kageyama with green skin and tentacles. Maybe he's trying to abduct you, better watch out for probes.” Kuroo cackled and dodged the pillow Oikawa threw at his face. “I guess you’re used to being probed though, huh?”

A scarlet blush grew on his face. The words he tried to retort came out in sputters and barely coherent sentences. Frustrated, he reached behind himself and grabbed the nearest object: a particularly thick chemistry textbook Kuroo left lying on the end table. 

“I’m going to bash your head in. Better kiss that pretty face goodbye.”

“Awww, you think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up! Don’t talk about my sex life!”

“Then don’t have sex in _our_ apartment!”

“You screw Kenma here all the time!”

“Yeah, but at least I do it when you’re not home!” 

Oikawa ground his teeth and raised the book, “that’s just because you’re a kinky bastard who fucks all over my stuff! You’re so disgusting, you know that?!”

“I do, thank you very much! I am quite aware!”

He groaned in defeat and let the book drop on Kuroo’s gut, smirking proudly as he heard a pained grunt in response. Bokuto was watching from his new spot on the loveseat, Akaashi sitting atop his lap with his long legs draped over the arm. He made sure to send a glare their way, muttering about how they had no right being so perfect. 

Thankfully, Bokuto responded with a truce and an offer to make more popcorn. The man had gone through almost two of the bags on his own. It wasn’t fair how much he could eat without ever gaining weight. Food only seemed to make him more muscular. 

With a sigh, Oikawa flopped onto the couch next to Kuroo and laid his head in his friend's lap. They might bicker 24/7 but at least they had always been able to move past it quickly. No argument between them had ever lasted more than a few hours without apologies or make-ups. 

“Hey, Oikawa?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to do when Kageyama meets his soulmate?”

It was Akaashi who was brave enough to ask. Typically, the topic was avoided at all costs. Oikawa was always irritable at the mention of pairings, and it often led to him sulking or ignoring the others for hours, if not days. Everyone knew not to bring it up without good reason.

He stayed silent. It wasn’t exactly something he wanted to talk about. He knew it would happen, he understood the day would come, but he hated to even consider the idea. 

When he finally spoke, after a few long minutes and gentle coaxes from Kuroo, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you think you’ll break up?”

“He says we won’t.”

“Do you believe him?”

It was quiet again, “I don’t know.”

Even Bokuto, the man who could never stop fidgeting or making noise, was silent. His arms had stilled at his sides. The only sounds he could hear were the subtle popping of kernels in the microwave. 

Akaashi nudged Oikawa’s legs, sitting next to him. He let him rest them on his thighs, gentle hands rubbing his calves The invitation was unspoken but it was there. They were ready to listen.

“He says we won’t. I think that we might. Doesn’t that make me a horrible person?”

“Not at all,” it was Kuroo who spoke up, “I think it’s justified to be concerned.”

He let his gaze fall to the opposite wall. “I’ve always been the only one without… attachments. It’s always been one sided. Kageyama has had a bond since the beginning, he just viewed it as a relationship that would happen naturally. He was never eager to look for it on his own.”

“So you think he might leave?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” His hands dragged over his face, palms rubbing at his eyes. “I think _he_ doesn’t know what he wants. I think that once he meets his soulmate and experiences a true connection, he’ll call our relationship off. This was probably just a timewaster that he never thought would last.”

Bokuto came over and perched on the back of the couch with the rest of them, “That’s not true. He really loves you, Oikawa. We can all tell. I don’t think he’s ever thought of your relationship like that.” His voice was impossibly kind. 

“But that doesn’t mean he’ll still stay. It doesn’t mean he’ll choose me.”

“You chose him over your soulmate. Maybe he’ll do the same.” Kuroo’s hand was resting in his hair, messing up his styled locks as a force of habit.

“That’s completely different.”

Akaashi spoke up next, “how?”

Oikawa’s hand gestured outwards on their own. He flung them into the air and tried to emphasize his thoughts as he spoke, “because my pair has already made it clear they want nothing to do with me. I don’t have anyone waiting for me. Kageyama does. He has someone who is destined to be with him, and if it weren’t for meeting me first, he’d probably be out there looking for him.”

“But he isn’t. Isn’t that a good sign?”

“That’s just because they haven’t met yet. They will eventually.”

Bokuto leaned over, sticking his face in Oikawa’s field of vision, “just trust him. Things will work out the way you want.” 

He grunted non-committedly in response. Screwing up his nose in thought.

“Bokuto.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re burning the fucking popcorn.” 

“Fuck! Oh crap!” The tall man leaped over the couch and ran into the kitchen, Akaashi getting up to do damage control. 

Kuroo was still resting on the couch, feet propped up on the couch and Oikawa’s head in his lap. After snickering together over the curses coming from their friend, he spoke up once again, “how long has it been since you reached out to them?”

This was, to his absolute _pleasure_ , a night of bombarding questions.

He let out a soft sigh. “Two years, maybe? That was the last time I did it intentionally at least. I might have opened the link on accident a few times.”

“Why don’t you try again?”

“And get ignored? No thanks. Plus, what about Kageyama? I can’t do that to him. I’m happy in my relationship and I’m staying like this.”

The taller man flicked him between the eyes, “no one is doubting your happiness, idiot. I’m just saying that there would be no harm in trying. If Kageyama can still use his connection, so can you.”

“But you know what always happens, it just-”

“Ah, ah, ah. Shut up. Don’t say anything. Just try.”

“How the fuck do I ‘just try’ when every time it goes to shit?” Oikawa’s brows furrowed and he pouted.

“Just think of how you’re feeling and use that. It doesn’t have to be a true link, but even something small works. If you’re upset with Kageyama then tap into that. Use your anger at burnt popcorn or your happiness from being with your bestest friend in the world.”

He jabbed his elbow into Kuroo’s side. 

“Just try, Oikawa.”

“Alright, alright, lay off of me.”

With a curt sigh, he let his eyes fall shut. Oikawa thought of the years of being ignored. The years of silence from his pair. He thought of the pain and anger he felt. He thought of Kageyama meeting his soulmate. He imagined his constant fear of abandonment. His fear of never being wanted, never being enough.

Most of all, he thought of the biggest “what if?” in his life. He built up all his emotions and sent them into the open link, feeling the familiar sensation running through his spine.

_What if you’re out there?_

___________________

“You’re not getting out of this. I won’t let you.”

The shot glass in front of him was taunting, a challenge just waiting to be regretted. 

“Daichi, I’m fairly certain this counts as peer-pressure. Isn’t that frowned upon these days? Shouldn’t you be saying, ‘no Iwaizumi, only do it if you want to, I’m not going to force you’ or something?”

“Absolutely not. Drink up.”

“Prick.”

“Fucker.”

Iwaizumi let out a disgruntled huff and picked up the glass, tilting it to his lips and gulping it down swiftly. Saying he was already buzzed was an understatement. He was most definitely past that point. The tequila burned his throat, making his eye twinge. He and Daichi had decided to go out for a couple celebratory drinks after their exam, but hours later, they were only just finishing. 

“How hard was that?”

“Impossible. Terrible. The worst decision of my life.”

Daichi laughed and shook his head, the evident flush of alcohol evident on his cheeks. His words were slurred and much too cheerful. “Thankfully it is a lovely Friday night, and we have no school or work, and I’m sure Suga won’t mind letting two raging drunks into the apartment to sleep off our bad choices.”

“He’ll let us in but that doesn’t mean he won’t be pissed at you.”

“That is not a problem for current me. Current me is here. Future me will deal with that.”

They had already begun the walk to Daichi’s home. It wasn’t too far from the bar, just enough of a walk to take some of the edge off of Iwaizumi’s drunken state. The air strung his face in the cold. He crammed his hands into his wrinkled jacket. 

“But then future me has to have immense guilt from making Suga put up with us.” 

The most unfortunate part of this night wasn’t having too much alcohol in his system. It wasn’t the very high possibility of having failed his test. Nor was it the fact that he was going to have to intrude on the hospitality of sweet, loving Suga. No, the worst part was that Daichi’s apartment complex had no elevator and he was being forced to climb five flights of stairs. 

By the time they reached the front door, Iwaizumi was half tempted to fall asleep outside of it. Daichi slid his keys into the lock and opened it for them.

Ordinally, he’d try to find something nice to say about a person’s home. It was the first time he was visiting, and he really did want to compliment it and make a good impression. However, the stench of burnt popcorn erased any good thought his drunken mind could make. 

“Fucking hell. I can’t do this, my head hurts too much for this.” His legs wobbled as he balanced and took off his shoes. “It fucking reeks.”

“What are you talking about, man? It smells fine.”

The expression he was making must have been entertaining because Daichi fell over laughing as soon as they made eye contact. He could feel his nose crinkling, eyes squinting as if that would make the smell any better. 

“Tell Suga he’s a monster for doing that to popcorn.”

“I’m a monster for _what_? Jesus, how drunk are you?” Suga peered around the corner, staring curiously at the men in front of him. He was already in a pair of pajamas, frame hidden by an oversized sweater that was obviously his boyfriend’s. Reading glasses hung off his nose. With a gasp, he looked at Daichi accusingly, “Don’t tell me you forced him to drink. I told you not to do that, what if you killed him?”

“I didn’t kill him, he’s fine. Plastered, but fine.”

“I’m still going to assume this is your fault.”

“I thought you loved me.” 

“Not right now.” The silver-haired man stuck his tongue out childishly and came over to help Iwaizumi with his coat. “I’m not sure what made you think I was making popcorn but I can assure you there’s not even a packet in this house. You’re imagining things.”

He whined and shook his head. The dull pain was starting to get worse, too many senses were overloading his brain. “I’m not, it’s awful. You seriously can’t smell that?”

Both men just stared at him. 

“Daichi, what the hell did you make him drink?”

“It wasn’t anything bad, I swear! I don’t know why he’s acting like this!”

“Guys, I’m literally right in front of you. I can hear everything you say.” 

Suga walked to his side and began pulling him to the couch. There were already blankets laid out as if he was expecting the extra company. 

“Are you sure no one slipped anything to him?”

Daichi groaned, “No one drugged him, Suga. He just needs to sleep it off.”

“Again, I am right here.”

His friend looked over his face, taking in the dilation of his pupils and red cheeks. “How are you feeling physically?”

“I’m fine, guys. I’m just fucking drunk.” 

“Is anything hurting?”

“My head, but that’s because of the alcohol. And whatever this smell is. My spine feels a bit numb though, is that normal?.”

Daichi piped up, “your spine?”

“Yeah.”

A heavy groan came from the larger man. “You idiot. That’s just your soulmate. You really must be drunk off your ass right now.”

Maybe it was because his brain was already under the influence, but it took Iwaizumi minutes to process what was said. He sat on the couch, eyes staring at the others without actually focusing on anything. “My soulmate?”

Suga giggled next to him, “yes, your soulmate. I feel bad for whoever they are if you’ve already forgotten them with a few drinks.” 

He could never forget his pair. Even if he wanted to, which he had before, it was impossible. His soulmate was a part of his very core. His very existence. No matter how royally screwed things were between them, he couldn’t deny that. 

“You’re wrong. It’s not them. They wouldn’t reach out to me like this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean that my soulmate and I aren’t really on the same page.” His slowed thoughts made it difficult to speak fluidly, but he made it work. “We’re not linked the way most people are. I rarely get anything from them.”

If there was one thing Iwaizumi knew about Suga, it was that he was always dependable. In the short time they had become friends, he had noticed that the man had an uncanny compassion for others. Even though he could be blunt and teasing about every little thing, he always was there when it mattered most. 

“You know you can talk to us, right? We’re your friends.” Suga’s hand came to rest over his, the pad of his thumb rubbing against his skin.

He smiled gratefully. “I know. This whole situation is my fault though, I brought this on myself. I cut off our link. For years.” Iwaizumi saw the two others share a look. He knew what it meant. He knew they were wondering what would have happened if that was them in his place. He knew they weren’t going to understand. Not completely. “I was dealing with a rough time and even now, I don’t know if I’m cut out for the whole ‘fated bond’ thing. I don’t know if it’s something I want.”

The popcorn smell was fading slowly. His head still hurt, and he was still way too intoxicated to be having such a serious conversation, but honestly, he wasn’t sure if this was something he would ever talk about when sober. He steadied his breath before continuing. “I couldn’t handle the connection then. So I chose to ignore it. I never reciprocated anything. And then it got to the point where my soulmate did the same. They stopped opening the link. Sometimes I got snippets but I haven’t… I haven’t felt the true bond since I was 17. I mean, that was seven years ago. Seven fucking years and I’ve only gotten the bare minmum. Which is all my fault of course, but I didn’t want it to end like that. I never wanted that to be our last moment.”

Daichi sat on his other side. “What happened?”

“They opened the bond. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not but they were obviously distracted with… other things. Their emotions were all over the place, and when the link was established I felt everything. It was just like the first time, you know? When it’s all new and you’re frozen in place because there’s proof of a person out there who’s meant for you.” His voice quivered a bit. “But they were with someone else. I mean like physically _with_ someone. I had to feel _everything_.” 

It was silent for a long time. Iwaizumi didn’t blame them. He would be reacting the same way if someone told him these things. 

Suga was the first one to talk. “Are you really so against soulmate pairings?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. Part of me is. I’ve seen firsthand what can go wrong with them. I’ve watched how it can tear people apart. And until that night happened, I was so certain I would never want to be in that kind of relationship. But then it did, and I just kept thinking ‘I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have cut them off. I hurt them’. The only thing I could do was just accept it as the worst mistake of my life.”

“So if you had the chance, would you fix it?”

“It’s too difficult to say, I mean-”

“Just answer yes or no. Don’t think about it. Would you?”

“Yes.”

Suga smiled softly, eyes holding a faint sadness behind them. “Then hope isn’t all gone. Though when you meet them, you better spoil them. They deserve it after putting up with you.” 

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that.”

“Then go to bed. Sleep this mess off. You’re a disaster.”

“Thank you for that, Suga.”

“Anytime.”

He laughed softly. Daichi clapped him on the shoulder before following Suga to the bedroom. Iwaizumi was left alone, listening to the faint sound of cars on the streets. He was never a fan of silence. For most of his life, he had always needed music to help him sleep. So without thinking, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and played the first song on his list. 

John Lennon’s _Beautiful Boy_ filled the room. 

He let himself sing the lyrics under his breath, just barely audible as a whisper. It reminded him of his mother’s fresh baked bread and his father’s old radio in the garage. He thought of the windchimes outside the kitchen window and the ugly painting above the couch. He thought about being a kid. About the time before things went wrong. 

The soft melody lulled him to the first stages of sleep, but he held on just long enough to be brave. For the first time in years, he opened his feelings and put them out into the world. He let the connection open. 

_I’m still here._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter :)

Oikawa couldn’t tell whether he was falling or floating. Every time their lips pressed together, his mind went blank. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the hands ghosting over his body, hypnotized by his own desire. 

Kageyama’s kisses were rough, full of heat that simply couldn’t be described. Each movement was firm and confident, the mechanics of his mind working to tilt his mouth at the perfect angle. He never half-assed it. He knew exactly how Oikawa liked it, he knew every thought and feeling that passed through his head. There was rarely any desperation behind him, just calculated pleasure. 

A firm grip kept him tied to the Earth. Noses bumped together. Mouths opened. Tongues met. Heavy breaths mingled, panting against each other’s skin.

He felt himself tipping. Oikawa surged forward, steady hands pushing his boyfriend against the mattress. The sudden motion didn’t halt their rhythm. The craving need for contact was too strong to be broken so soon.

The brunette arched his back, leaning down and propping himself up with his elbows. His long locks framed his face, the dim light from a streetlamp outside casting an ethereal halo on his head. Kageyama’s hands slid up his chest, fingernails dragging and scratching, only stopping to grip at the base of his neck.

His lips never stopped. Kageyama trailed them down his neck, biting and sucking dark marks everywhere he could. He was on fire. He was too goddamn sensitive. He could feel each grazing touch, each faint increase of pressure. It took next to nothing to run shivers down his spine, body quivering above his boyfriend’s. He couldn’t stop the moans tumbling from his mouth, shamelessly grinding his hips down onto the other’s thighs. It wasn’t enough.

Kageyama bit down on the crest of his shoulder, causing him to whine in frustration and need. He moved his hands to dig into the mess of black hair, gripping harder and harder each time their hips met.

“Kageyama-” The name escaped from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once.

He was desperate. Ready to beg on his hands and knees for even the slightest bit of his partner’s attention. He let noises, animalistic and needy, spill into the heated air between them. 

It worked. Kageyama caught his gaze, smirking with a bright gleam in his eyes. A deep chuckle echoed from his chest, arms moving to scratch lines into Oikawa’s back like a sculptor and his clay.

He wanted to be molded and shaped. He needed to be created under Kageyama’s fingertips, details etched from nothing under his watchful gaze. He was desperate to be art.

The younger man pushed him up until they were both sitting, tracing his lips along his collarbones. Every thrust between them brought him closer to the mattress. Lower. Lower. Lower. Fingers hitched into the waistband of is sweatpants, trailing the curve of his hip bone. Hands held his hips down against the bed.  
His touch sunk farther below the fabric. Teeth grazed his jaw, nipping and drawing Oikawa’s bottom lip into his mouth. The cold air bit at his skin as Kageyama slipped him out. He shuddered.  
Kageyama’s eyes were lidded and dark, his lips shining and parted as he hovered low over the other. He swallowed Oikawa down, moving suddenly without time to react. A guttural moan released itself from his gut. His back arched into the touch. It was hot. Tight. Wet.  
His body lathered in the attention. His cheeks flushed with adoration.There was nothing but desperate, aching desire coursing through his body. 

He wanted desperately to cry out his partner’s name, speak it to the heavens as if it could save him from damnation, but his mind couldn’t form any thought beside the need. 

“Make me forget, Oikawa.”  
______________________________________

The walk to the coffeeshop was short. Oikawa knew very well that it was close to closing time, but he also knew Suga would let him in either way. If he had to earn passage by doing work, so be it. Anything to clear his head.

_Forget what? What could he possibly want to forget?_

Kageyama was still in his apartment. He had waited until the man fell asleep to leave, not saying a word or even leaving a note. His nerves were on fire, hands shaking as hugged himself for warmth. The world was cold. Winter was coming.

_What did he mean? What happened?_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the answer. It was lurking in the shadows, behind walls and barriers that he refused to open. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t even want to consider it. 

_Anything but that. Please, anything but that._

“Oikawa?” It was Kenma who saw him first. “What are you doing here?” 

The shop was empty for the most part, with only a few straggling customers left behind. The windows were fogged over with condensation, heat insulating the building from the harsh breeze outside. 

“I’m having a crisis. Where’s Suga?” His voice was too quiet. His hair hung down over his eyes, looking entirely too messy, blocking his downcast eyes from view. He felt like crying. Sobbing even. Maybe a tad bit maniacal as well. 

“He stepped out for something, I don’t know when he’ll be back.” 

An irritated sigh left his lips and he shoved his clenched hands into his pockets. “I’m going to wait outside for him.”

“Wait, Oikawa, it’s way too co-”

He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He didn’t want to let anyone else see him break down. He’d rather die. 

He had wanted Suga to be there. Suga would have helped him into the office, given him a blanket and a hot chocolate, helped him calm down. But he wasn’t there, he needed him and he wasn’t there. “Fuck.” The cold air stung his cheek. He half expected it to start snowing. The thin sweater he had grabbed wasn’t nearly strong enough for the weather, but it was the only one he had at Kageyama’s apartment. He had planned to stay the night. So much for that. 

Wind howled over his ears. His breath turned into steam before his eyes. Warm tears slipped down his cheeks, illuminated by the light of the store behind him. 

Oikawa was so caught up in wallowing through his feelings that he didn’t notice the hands behind him. A warm coat was draped on his shoulders, a beanie pulled messily down over his head. He couldn’t help the yelp that came out of his mouth. 

Laughter echoed behind him, deep and amused. “It’s Oikawa, right?”

It didn’t take him long to recognize who the man was. He sniffed and rubbed his nose, trying to hide the very obvious signs that he had been crying.

“The knight in shining armor has come to save the day. Can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“Hey, it’s hard work being Prince Charming.” Iwaizumi was standing beside him now, shoulder to shoulder. His gaze was averted to the street in front of them, eyes respectfully turned from Oikawa’s vulnerability. “I tried waving at you inside but you didn’t notice. Then Kenma kept glaring at me after you left so I figured it was his awkward way of asking me to check on you. Hopefully I didn’t overstep anything?”

Oikawa shook his head silently. They stood in silence for what felt like hours, minds not entirely focused, hearts not entirely whole. The fabric was warm around his arms. He pulled it closer around him.

“You want me to beat them up for you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Whoever made you cry, want me to get revenge?”

A small chuckle bubbled from his lips. “I think jousting duels are frowned upon these days.”

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue and laughed, absentmindedly digging the toe of his shoe into the ground. “I think I’d be a better sword fighter. Or maybe an archer.”

“Does this make me the ‘damsel in distress’?”

“Maybe just a ‘damsel wallowing in extreme sadness’.”

“What the fuck.”

“I’m not wrong.”

OIkawa felt a pout grow on his face, shoving the man with his elbow. “You’re so rude.” He shot a quick glare to the side. 

Once again, Iwazumi found himself laughing. He hadn’t really meant to be mean, but he couldn’t help it. Oikawa was easy to tease, easy to talk to. He had come to the school for a fresh start, and part of that meant getting to know new people. Daichi had been kind enough to introduce him to others, so Iwaizumi had every intention of taking the chance. 

He could hear his mom’s voice in the back of his head, nagging him about “making” friends” as if he was in grade school again.

“Hey,” he tilted forward until he could meet the other man’s eyes, swollen and puffy with tears, “let me buy you a drink or something inside. We can talk about all of your woes there.”

He received a soft nod in response. Without thinking, he reached forward, pulled the jacket tighter around Oikawa’s shoulders and walked inside.  
___________________________

“I thought you’d be a coffee drinker. You seem like one of those people who’d be into those fancy lattes with too many ingredients.” 

“I am, but hot chocolate is always superior. At least, the hot chocolate from here is.”

“Can I try?”  
“As if. Don’t try mooching off me, we only just met.”

“I bought it!”

“You probably have cooties!”

“Cooties? What are you, five?”

A heavy boot came down on his shin. Iwaizumi groaned in pain and shot a glare across the table. 

Oikawa had a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were distant. He wasn’t entirely _there_. “Why are you here so late anyways?”

He watched as the other man’s gaze tilted to the window. It was dark outside, fog settling into the streets like a blanket. “I was here with Daichi, but then he had to go somewhere with Suga. He said they’d be back, so I’m just here waiting.”

“Of course the two lovebirds are together. Like always. 24/7.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, a disgusted glare turning to his drink as if it had personally offended him. Iwaizumi reached across and snagged it away, earning him another bruise as he took a sip. 

“Aren’t you dating someone too? They probably feel the same way about you guys.”

A scoff. Another eyeroll. Pursed lips. “I’m not attached at the hip like they are. I can live perfectly fine on my own.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re upset.” 

“I’m saying it because it’s true. And hey, you’re not exactly in a position to be counseling me, seeing as we barely know each other.” 

Iwaizuimi quirked his eyebrow. He was quickly learning that Oikawa had the attitude of both a toddler and a teenager. “I bought you a drink. I think this counts as an attempt to understand you. Besides, isn’t Suga your best friend? You shouldn’t be saying that.”

“He is. But he complains about me too so it’s only fair.”

He slid the drink back across the table. The store was almost empty, save for the employees and two other customers. Oikawa took a sip gratefully and ran his eyes over his company.

Iwaizumi’s hair was damp from the mist outside. His jawline was sharp and prominent, giving him a mature nature beyond his years. He had tired eyes. They were gentle, never truly full of emotion. Large hands tapped on the table. Broad shoulders leaned back against the booth. Oikawa squirmed a bit under his gaze.

“Why are you here so late?” Iwaizumi echoed the question, intrigue showing at the corner of his eyes. His mouth twitched upwards. He bounced his leg under the table.

Oikawa sighed and rested his arms on the table, leaning forward in defeat. “I needed to talk to Suga. But he isn’t here, obviously. Which is part of the reason I’m annoyed because he _should_ be here right now.”

“Was it because of why you were crying?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He mirrored Oikawa’s posture, placing his weight on the wood between them. A slight trail of steam from the drink rose in front of his eyes. He followed it until it dissipated through the air. 

Oikawa huffed again and blinked back tears. “There isn’t much to say. I think my boyfriend met his soulmate, I think something happened between them, he might leave me, he made some weird comment that I think was about it during sex.”

Iwaizumi felt his eyes widen. A blush splayed on his cheeks. He stuttered as he responded. “Sorry, what? Can you start over?”

“Look who’s five now. You can’t even handle the word ‘sex’.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I didn’t expect you to drop it so casually into conversation, especially when you’re the one who said we barely know each other!”

“Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.”

He swung his foot forward in payback, receiving a surprised yelp in response. “You’re a brat.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.”

“God. I take it back, you’re not five, you’re a white woman in her 50’s. You act like my fucking mom.”

In challenge, Iwaizumi snatched the hot chocolate away and drank the rest in one motion. He placed the cup to the side and watched amusedly as Oikawa’s eyes glared back at him. His smaller frame drowned in the fabric of the jacket, hair sticking out awkwardly from under the beanie he still wore.

“I’m being perfectly nice. I offered to listen, so you can either talk about it or we move on.” 

It took a long moment before anything else was said. Oikawa had resorted to a staring-contest that left him seething in his seat, gaze trying to bore holes into Iwaizumi’s head. He gave up after it was clear the other man wasn’t going to make the first attempt at speaking.

Without thinking, his fingers picked at the fraying edges on the jacket. He was entirely too self-conscious about how he looked. He moved his legs to the seat, curling into himself. It wasn’t clear if Suga was going to be back soon, and if he didn’t talk about it soon, he might implode. 

“I think my boyfriend met his soulmate.”

“Isn't that you?”

Iwaizumi had heard of relationships outside of pairings, but they were rare. Unlikely and unconventional. When Oikawa mentioned it, he was sure that he heard wrong.

“He and I aren’t like that. There’s no bond between us.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t feel like defending himself to another stranger. He didn’t want to justify his relationship for the umpteenth time. “I don’t want to be lectured about it, so don’t give me any crap, okay? I get enough from my family.”

“No. Wait, no. Just hold on.” Iwaizumi stretched his hand out across the table, not touching Oikawa but opening it enough to show a bit more empathy than his earlier stance. “I wasn’t going to say anything bad about it.”

Oikawa shot him a disbelieving look.

“I’m serious. It’s not weird or anything, I was just surprised. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” The brunette slumped forward and rested his head against the table. “I have absolutely no idea what to do. I don’t even know if it’s true.”

“What happened?”

“He’s an athlete for the university. They got this new player, and normally he would tell me about these things, but he didn’t. I had to hear it from a friend. And he’s spending a lot of time with him, cancelling plans with me, all the signs are there! And then…” He sighed again and bit his lip. “We were together tonight and he told me that he wanted me to ‘make him forget’.” 

He was close to tears again. Iwaizumi’s hand was still outstretched, reaching out tentatively in silent question. He couldn’t bring himself to care as he took it in his own, fingertips resting against each other. 

“Well… fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.”

Iwaizumi titled his head down, resting it against his arm. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve been avoiding this topic for so long, and now it’s here and I can’t even bring myself to do something about it. I just ran away and came here.”

“It’ll be alright.”

“Jesus fucking christ I hate when people say that. It’s not going to be okay, it can’t be. It’s just going to turn shit and I’m going to have to deal with the aftermath on my own.” He pulled his hand away and brushed through his hair. Out of habit, he bit at his nails. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be upset at you. I’m just… tired.”

Iwaizumi thrummed his fingers against the wood. Behind the windows, streetlights illuminated falling flecks of snow in the wind. The road already had a light dusting, casting a white sheet against the asphalt. 

“Oikawa.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go somewhere with me?”

“What? When?”

“Right now.”


End file.
